Derek stared at Yami, stunned.
Head Mistress. SS-class fighter. Take him as a disciple?
"Master, you're not joking with me, are you?" Derek finally managed to say. "She's the Head Mistress. One of the very few SS-class fighters in the entire kingdom. Why would someone like her bother with me? I'm just a cultivator."
Yami chuckled, smoke curling from his lips as he leaned back in his chair.
"I get why you're thinking that way," he said. "In this kingdom, mages hold the highest status. Most of them look down on cultivators." He tapped the ash off his cigarette.
"But she isn't like that," Yami continued. "She doesn't care whether you're a cultivator, an Auran, or a mage. She only cares about one thing — potential. Real, undeniable potential. That's the only standard she uses."
